Death and Petrichor

Helen and I got soaked up a slope -

Queen Elizabeth Forest - 2009

Aunty Edna had just died.

For a moment - with her memory uplifted to the petrichor and the rising warm steam: to the green as colour and sound : to a herbaceous womb, full of light -

we stood with our arms outstretched like telegraph poles.

Let the water run down our backs.

Became like ducks.

And the sound of Margaret Edna Griffiths, singing in the leaves.